


Following Darkness Like a Dream

by scratchedandinked



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Talking down, of course, underlying gay to just Gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 10:43:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scratchedandinked/pseuds/scratchedandinked
Summary: Neil Perry is downstairs in his father's private office, taking in the stillness of the night. Deciding.The stillness is broken by Todd Anderson, coming to Neil's window with rambling praise. Against a better judgment-- or the best judgment-- Neil goes to answer Todd.Todd stops Neil.





	Following Darkness Like a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in an hour (at 1am) after re-watching the movie for the umpteenth time. Felt a lot of myself in both Neil and Todd in this rewatch and just had to spit something out.  
> Thanks for reading xox

The winter air was crisp and chilling. It was a dry coldness, just after a snow. The dampness hadn’t yet set in. The moonless sky was finally clear of falling snow. Everything was finally still. Neil thought he was the only person in the entire world that was awake. That was  _ thinking _ , it seemed.

His friends had presumably gone home right after the show, praises and yawps on their lips. Neil watched them disappear down the sidewalk from the backseat of his father’s car. They walked in a huddle, the falling snow far colder to them than it seemed to Neil then.

He had removed his shirt in a last attempt of reaching the world outside his window, always still and resilient. Neil wanted to understand how it could stand outside his window, every window Neil’s ever had, and remain so hauntingly motionless.

The small bit of woods outside Neil’s house was silent that night, just like it had been every night, but somehow it called to him. Placing his wreath on the windowsill, Neil answered. He stepped slowly downstairs, his bare feet quietly padding on the wood steps. They were barely audible, but to Neil they felt thunderous. His last steps were going to be ones he decided to take, going into an office he was never allowed to enter.

The room was illuminated by the glinting new snow through the windows. In the brightness, Neil worried he wasn’t alone, but the heaviness of the air convinced him to press on. There was no one else; he was completely alone.

At least, in that house Neil was. At Welton he was never alone. Whether it was being with genuine friends or pressured by hovering teachers, Neil had someone with him. Meeks pushing him through history and Charlie dragging him down in Trig; Knox fitting every single moment of his undying crush into the few minutes between classes; and Todd quietly writing and rewriting and  _ swearing  _ at his desk every night, the sound becoming a comfort to Neil. It reminded him of the other thinking minds alive in the world.

The stillness of the world was made worse without the chance to properly leave Todd Anderson. Sweet, soon to be unforgivably distraught Todd. The gentle sleeper with building ambition coiling under heavy shoulders. Dreaming of a new day and hopelessly hopeful, like a stray star in a dark, depthless night. Neil's night.

The ones he spent staring at the ceiling, the firm hand of his father hanging more ominously over his head than the cracked roofing. The early mornings when the stray morning light would somehow only grace Todd's side of the room, the warmth teasing Neil to rise from his bed and join the other boy in comfort and warmth they'd both never known but longed for.

The night was cold. There was no moonlight to mimic one last fond memory as Neil reached into his father’s locked cabinet. The gun was colder. The thin cloth helped Neil keep the gun steady in his hand as he lifted it onto the desk.

He’d seen his father shoot a gun before. It looked easy. There wasn’t going to be a lecture for his technique anyhow, what did he have to lose?

Neil’s father always said he kept his gun loaded, faster for defense he said. Neil felt like his father had left it loaded for him; help him along.

He checked the barrel anyway, only wanting to summon the strength to snap his finger back once. It clicked closed tightly with a mechanical snap. Neil studied the gun. The barrel was beyond dark, like a pit that absorbed the last of your light before it could be returned to God. Neil placed the gun back on the desk, but never took his hand completely off of it. There was another snap-- more of a click, a  _ tap _ . It wasn’t the barrel, Neil knew, his hands and body far too still to have jostled anything.

Another tap, this time with a partner--  _ tap tap _ \-- fast and firm. It came from behind Neil. The woods calling again, impatient with him. Neil gripped the gun again, his fingers finding their place while the gun still rested on the desk. The wood’s tapped again. Neil turned to look, eyes wild and burning.

A pair of timid blue eyes stared back at him.

“Todd?” Neil breathed. His hands released the gun to scramble for the window. He pushed the glass up and another gust of crisp winter air greated his bare torso. “Todd, what are you doing here?”

“I-I got the address from one of the other guys and--and I walked, ran, tripped, flew,  _ whatever _ I had to to get here.” He laughed softly. “You were incredible tonight.”

“Thank you.” The stillness gave Neil a reprieve to smile at Todd. 

“I know you got rushed off, and we did too, so we didn’t get a chance to tell you how much we loved it. I’m so glad you went for it, Neil.  _ God _ , I’m so happy for you. I’m sorry I gave you all that flack in the beginning I just--”

“It’s okay.”

“No, no. I doubted you because I was doubting myself and--and… but after tonight--  _ holy shit _ , Neil,” Todd was breathless suddenly, panting as he pushed his hair off his forehead in dumbstruck awe. “You inspired me more than ever tonight. Y--You were beautiful.”

Neil was. He had been amazing, a storm swirling and rumbling and  _ growing  _ on that stage. But a storm had to touch down eventually, and Neil chose to finally releasing his wrath in his father’s private office. Like unleashing a storm in a storm cellar.

“I have to go.” Neil said. He peered past Todd to the woods behind the house.

“Neil, wait.” Todd beat him to the window and braced his arm in the opening. “What’s wrong--” His eyes peered into the room, dark and shadowed but doing nothing to hide the gun resting on the desk.

“Is that a gun?” Todd muttered. He snapped his eyes to Neil’s face, the pools of blue swelling and threatening to overflow. Neil didn’t want to look at him, but the company was sinfully desired in his last moments. He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t want Todd’s eyes to be his last memory. “Neil, what are you doing? Put that away.”

“No.”

“Neil, what happened? What did your father say?” He grabbed at the windowsill, afraid the house would pull away just as easily as Neil was. “Neil.”

“I’m going to Braden.” At least someone would know the truth; no good intention could wash the world’s hands clean of his blood. “My father’s last decision. I can’t act anymore.”

“No. No, t-there has to be another way. There is! There has to be.” Todd reached for Neil. He stepped back. “Neil, listen to me, this isn’t it.”

“Mr. Keating was right; Poetry, beauty, love is what we stay alive for.” Neil said, pausing to take a slow breath. “Stay  _ alive  _ for.”

“Neil,”

“But then what? What do I stay alive for when that’s taken from me? Who do I stay alive for? My father?” A cold snap of laughter escaped from Neil’s lips. “So I can carry his dream to my grave? Or-- or maybe I wait until he dies to break free? Then what? I’m  _ fifty _ with nothing to show for it, having lived  _ every. second.  _ in quiet desperation.” Neil tried to shout, but had to keep the words hushed in the back of his throat. His eyes were burning, his tears a mix of resignation and boiling frustration.

“Neil, those aren’t the only two options.” Todd was pleading with Neil, like his own life was on the line. “Please, just, come outside. Talk to me.”

“I’m not going to shoot you.” Neil said. “I’m not going to kill  _ you _ .” He spoke to the hot, frantic tears streaming down Todd’s face. He just wanted them to stop.

“But you  _ are _ .” Todd answered. “If you die, I do too.” He reached his hand out to Neil again, trembling and sweating. The only thing Neil could think about was how unsteady Todd’s hand was to hold a gun. It was too much. Neil swallowed the knot in his throat, the one put there by the trees and blind world. He placed his hand in Todd’s. “Come on, come outside.” Todd pulled on Neil’s arm and guided him out of the window.

The snow came up to Neil’s ankles. It was light and loose. It moved through Neil’s toes like he was standing on summer grass. He was still shirtless, standing before Todd and the woods in his most vulnerable and unforgivable form. Todd led him away from the house, closer to the woods but never passing the first row of trees. Neil could perfectly stare between both endings to his life: return to the Earth or military school.

“Scream.” Todd gripped Neil’s hand still. “I know you aren’t numb in there, Neil.  _ Scream _ , come on! Talk to me, talk to whoever is up there or out here!”

“Why? They aren’t listening!” Neil cried. “No one’s answered me.”

“Then ask  _ louder _ . Come on.”

Neil took a shaky, shallow breath. All his words dissolved into a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. All he had was a primitive, barbaric anguish rising from the deepest part of his heart suffocating every hope, dream, and flutter it had ever felt. “ _ FUCK!” _ It was barely a word; an elongated grunt, screaming out of Neil uncontrollably.

He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to feel like the stillness of the night was the only thing to properly keep him. But his father had made every decision and there was no way out. In some ways, Neil felt his father had even made  _ this _ decision for him.

“I can't think, Todd.” Neil continued, his tears finally running down his cheeks. He was still burning hot, unable to feel the cold around him. “This is the end of my life. This is how it feels when you strain your eyes to keep them from closing that last time. I feel like I am  _ straining _ , Todd. Every day of my life! I’m pushing back against something or someone or  _ everyone _ .”

“But that doesn’t mean that they are winning--”

“My father saw me in my play and still decided I wasn’t enough.” Neil saw the disappointment track him across the stage like a followspot. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to  _ do _ , Todd.”

“Be enough for yourself, Neil, please!” Todd released Neil’s hand to grip his shoulders. “Suck the marrow out of life! That’s the mantra, right?”

“It’s also to live deliberately.” Neil said. “And I can’t even do that. I can’t even make my own decisions, Todd. I won’t even finish the year out at Welton. I can’t even say goodbye to anyone. I’m going to disappear one way or another. Might as well be on my terms.”

“No. No no.” Todd’s hand were still trembling, now red and freezing, as he gripped Neil’s shoulders, his thumbs resting on his neck. Even in the cold, the recognition of the warmth and comfort pulsed between them. Neil’s hands swung out by his sides to grab onto Todd, but halted in the gaze of the dead eyes of night. “We’ll figure something out. There’s another way. There’s another way, Neil. There always is.”

“Maybe there isn’t.” The gun on the desk had a full barrel. Neil felt like he was using the extra bullets to slowly kill Todd with every conviction. “I think this is how it’s supposed to go.”

“How can you  _ say that _ ?” Todd surged at Neil, his hands lifting from his shoulders to grab his face. “I get this, Neil, I do, I understand what you are thinking, but this isn’t the only option you have.”

“What else is there?” Neil asked. “What else do I have left?”

“Poetry, beauty, romance,” Todd whispered. “Love.”

“That isn’t enough.”

“For who?” Todd countered. “For you or for your father?”

Neil blinked and tried to clear the tears pooling in his eyes. He wanted to take in every trembling, freezing, near frostbitten inch of the boy in front of him. Neil didn’t want to admit that it was enough, that  _ he _ was enough. He didn’t want to admit that having the short tug in his chest of a naive heart feeling love for the first time was enough. It was the most Neil had felt before being on stage. It was the only thing he felt.

“What do I do?”

“Get kicked out.” Todd again was breathless, constantly chasing after the crazy ideas running through his mind. “Leave. Disown yourself. Fucking screw them all. We can do this. You, me-- everyone.”

“Todd, I can’t do that.” Neil shook his head but made sure to not cause any distance to grow between their faces. He could feel Todd’s breath against his mouth as he spoke.

“You were going to…” Todd said, words catching in his throat. He shook it away with a sniffle. “This is the version of freedom where you get to live.” Neil blinked at Todd slowly. The cold finally reached his bare skin. “Please.”

Barefoot and without a shirt or jacket, Neil was ready to leave. To tread messily across undisturbed snow and map out a path that in two days time, no one could track. Neil was ready to take Todd’s hand and scamper through the woods under and over tree branches and roots and reach the center, concealed and protected.

It didn’t matter the circumstances, Neil’s home was a cage. It was going to hold him firm and still until it became his coffin. Neil wasn’t the problem; it had always been the house. He was getting too big, his arms pressing against the wire bars, his legs scraping and tearing on the rusty bottom, his neck cramped and forced downward, eyes only able to study the floor.

The woods were still, but free. Open patches and stretches of freedom. A gust of wind could come blowing past his heaving chest from any direction; snow could begin falling at any moment and dust his hair with a frozen confectioners sugar; he could fall back and tuck into the snow to stare up at the limitless night sky.

Neil wanted to run.

“Let’s go.” He gasped, reaching for Todd’s face. “L--Let’s go. I want to leave. I’ll go anywhere you take me. I want to follow you.”

“Yeah?” The disbelief was mutual between the two of them; neither could fully process the words slipping from their lips; they were far too close together. Before Todd’s words could enter the air, swirling and hanging around them to be heard and considered, the urgent warmth of Todd’s words fell onto Neil’s lips. It caused his own words to come rushing out after it, trying to chase and return the warmth. It was a complicated way of comforting the other.

“Yeah. Let’s go. I’ll go with you. Let’s run.”

“Okay. We’ll go get your things if you want or we can just go back to Welton’s to get something or--”

“Wherever you want to go, Todd, I’m ready to just escape. We can think later we can just--”

“Are you sure, Neil? I want this for you too but I want you to be sure of--”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything before I feel it thrumming in me--”

“Me too! I--”

They both gasped, trying to catch their breath and slow the piling words on their lips. Talking wasn’t working; the warmth wasn’t lasting on either of their lips. Neil was thankful he was already holding Todd’s face, unsure if he would have had the courage to pull him closer if not already in the process.

Neil closed his eyes finally, no longer straining to keep them open. The kiss was warm, their lips slick from frantic speech. Nothing about it felt foreign, like a communication beyond words. It was his first act of freedom outside of the cage and it was exhilarating. They gripped one another in fear of being torn apart.

But the woods were no longer calling Neil. They were silent and looked on. Neil was free. He was standing in the freezing cold, warmed only by the lips of another boy. He was alone but in safe company. He was lost and unsure and excited.

He was alive, finally.


End file.
